Annie Wilkes/Disregarded Battles
Battles here were deemed to be unfair or otherwise not in accordance with wiki standards, and have been removed from the statuses of the warriors and displayed below. __TOC__ Battle vs. Jack Torrance (by El Alamein) Jack Torrance opened his eyes in a panic and tried to sit bolt upright, but only managed to shake the bed to which he was tethered. "GAH! Gah!" he screamed, his breathing torn and ragged, his eyes rolling wildly in his head like those of a restless animal. "You'll have to stay calm, there, Jack," a reasurring voice purred calmly from the corner of the room. "You've had quite a bit of a rough past couple of days." Frothing at the mouth in confusion, Torrance's head drooped limply over his shoulder, his eyes still shifting ceaselessly across the room. It was warm - just like the last moments of consciousness that he remembered in the maze. After all, as hypothermia sets in, shivering and the sensation of cold tend to wear off. A woman suddenly loomed over Torrance's field of view with a bowl of stew. "I'm Annie Wilkes," she said. "I was driving by, on my way to get paper for Paul Sheldon - of course, you know him, don't you? He's a very good author! He's the best, I'd say. Oh, and he is a very good man. I'm his number one fan!" "Danny," grunted Torrance, his speech forceful and slurred as he slowly came to his senses. "Now, now Jack, you can't be talking too much too soon," chided Wilkes patiently. "Oh, I'm sorry - I do know your name, you know. I found your information as I searched the hotel for supplies to help you recover. It's surprising what you'd find in two days, you know? It's lucky that a nurse like me found you right when I did! You wouldn't have lasted much longer without me." She looked down to dip the spoon in the bowl of stew and lowered it gently to Jack Torrance's face. "You do need to eat now. Try this, please." Pursing his lips to prevent the spoonful of stew entering his mouth, Torrance grunted through clenched teeth, "I'd give my soul for a goddamn glass of beer." Wilkes shook violently, spilling the stew on Torrance's bed. It was hot, and spilled across his legs under the sheets, causing him to roar in pain and anger that mirrored the silently furious look that played suddenly across Wilkes' face. "There's no nobility in swearing, Jack," she managed. Setting down the bowl, she stood up, gave one final, glowering look down on her patient-turned-prisoner, and left the room, locking the door behind her. Torrance growled to himself before giving one rage-fueled shake of the head, his chin smashing down onto his chest as he flailed against the constraints keeping him secured in the bed. He could move his wrists freely, but there was nothing within reach that he could use to free himself. Frowning heavily, he gave one final violent thrashing that shook the bed before he slumped back in defeat. Torrance suddenly smiled, letting an insane grin play across his face. Raising his eyebrows, he looked over in the corner, nodding agreeably. "Well... fancy seeing you here, Lloyd." The apparition smiled through a gaunt face, dressed in the bartender uniform and with hands clasped respectfully together. "How do you do, Mr. Torrance." "Ah, well... y'know, not that great, Lloyd." "Terribly sorry to hear that, Mr. Torrance." "I seem to be... stuck to this bed here, you see." "You are quite confined, Mr. Torrance." Jack Torrance opened his mouth and bugged his eyes out of his head before he laughed somewhat forcibly. "Confined! Ha! Confined!" he chuckled. "You always were my favorite bartender, Lloyd." The ghost simply closed his eyes and bowed his head slightly with a smile in acknowledgment of the compliment. A sly grin took over the side of Torrance's mouth. "Say, Lloyd," he said, winking, "I don't suppose you'd be able to help me out of this situation, now, would you?" He jerked his head toward his bindings. "Give me a hand here, won't you?" "Since you did ask so politely," Lloyd said drily, approaching the bed. "Very well, Mr. Torrance." "Ah, I knew I could count on you!" Torrance said. "That's real swell of you." "Shall I fetch your fire axe, Mr. Torrance?" *** The long hallways of the Overlook Hotel were ominous in their depth. The distinctly-patterned carpets almost gave way to an illusion of madness, each colorful, jagged line sewn in the fabric twisting and dancing like the spirits that lurked somewhere between this world and the next. If Jack Torrance could see them, though, he made no indication as he lumbered forward, teeth bared and eyes smoldering. His steps were sudden and jerky, his shoulders lurching forward like those of a man drunk. He held a fire axe in one of his hands, the other balled tightly into a fist. Hearing footsteps, Torrance slowed. At the end of the hallway emerged the woman who had fed him in his room. Annie Wilkes' face was an impassive sheet of blank anger. In her hands was a massive sledgehammer. "You're out of your room, Jack." Torrance lowered his head and slowly began to quicken his pace, raising his axe to strike, but Wilkes stood steady in his way. At the last moment, a look of excitement lit up across Wilkes' face as she swung the sledgehammer horizontally. The blow connected with Torrance's shoulder and sent him crashing to the floor, dropping the axe. His limb was probably broken, but he awkwardly pushed himself up and picked up his axe with his other, undamaged arm. He cracked the handle down on Wilkes' head as she recovered with the hammer for a second swing, stunning her. Backing up, Torrance growled as Wilkes stood up and adjusted her grip on her weapon. Raising the hammer in a high two-handed grip over the top of her head, Annie Wilkes shrieked loudly as she charged forward. Jack Torrance threw his axe aside, lowered his head, and barreled into his attacker. The sledgehammer swung wild and crashed hard into one of the pillars in the hall, taking out a huge chunk in the process. The two psychopaths stumbled out into the lobby, driven by Jack's momentum. They toppled hard to the ground. Grabbing the front of Wilkes' shirt with his hands, Torrance shook her violently. In response, Annie reached into her coat, drew a kitchen knife, and plunged it into Jack's injured shoulder. She ripped the blade out before Jack slammed the back of her head down onto the floor. Annie stopped struggling briefly, her arms shaking feebly in resistance, as Jack stood up and turned to grab his axe off the ground. Growling fiercely under his breath, eyes rolling in rage, he turned erratically as he stooped down to pick up his weapon. Turning around, he found his assailant gone. Jack's nostrils flared as his eyes darted across the lobby. His damaged shoulder hung limp, blood staining through his tattered sleeve. *** Annie Wilkes shook her head clear as she plodded out into the heavy snow outside the hotel. Stomping over to her truck, she unlocked the door and planted an angry hand over her double-barreled shotgun sitting across the passenger seat. Not bothering to close the door or take back her keys, she turned around, checking to make sure the firearm was loaded before trying to open the front door. It was locked. Inside the hotel, Jack Torrance sat slumped against the reception desk, watching as Lloyd tugged on the locked door, making sure it was securely shut. "Ah, thanks a bunch, Lloyd, I can always rely on you, friend," said Jack, slurring the last word as he struggled to his feet. He held the fire axe awkwardly, both hands too high up the handle to make use of its reach. The ghost simply smiled politely and walked back down the hall, disappearing from sight. As Torrance turned to walk away, two loud bangs punched through the air, followed by the sound of splintering wood. Spinning around, Jack watched as the door came crashing down. Through the howling wind and swirling snow stepped Annie Wilkes, calmly reloading both barrels as she entered the hotel. "How do you expect me to help you if I can't come back into the hotel, Jack?" Torrance snarled but turned to duck behind the reception desk as Wilkes raised the shotgun, firing once, the shot slamming into the wall where her opponent's head had been seconds before. Plaster rained down on Torrance's head. He looked over and saw one of the desk drawers pulled all the way open, a croquet mallet lying inside. "Good ol' Lloyd," Jack thought to himself, a twisted grin yanking at his face. As Wilkes turned the corner and lowered the gun down at Torrance, he slammed the barrel aside with his mallet, sending the second shot flying wild. Wilkes smashed Torrance with the weapon, sending him a few steps back, but he cracked his mallet down hard on the shotgun and sent it skittering across the floor. Backing up, Wilkes held out her kitchen knife again, but Torrance charged like a bull, swinging his croquet mallet and landing a heavy blow across Annie's lower jaw. Blood and teeth spun through the air, but as Annie fell she held out a hand and recovered on the ground. Spitting to the side, she looked back up with a fiery rage and leapt up with the knife pointed straight for Jack Torrance's belly. Jack extended his arm, stopping Annie, before he grabbed the front of her shirt again and threw her down. Before she could get up he fell on top of her, crushing her throat underneath his knee. As he leaned forward, pushing all his weight down on Annie, she thrashed violently, stabbing him once more in the upper leg. It wasn't enough, though. The color in Wilkes' face flushed a deep red, which quickly turned a sickly purplish-blue as her eyes bugged out of her head and her legs shook uncontrollably, skittering like the death throes of a bug on its back. Without breaking eye contact, Jack Torrance reached behind him, feeling for his weapon on the ground, and lifted his croquet mallet high overhead. Triumphantly, and filled with an all-consuming rage, he brought the mallet home once on Annie Wilkes' skull. Her struggling stopped immediately. Breathing heavily, Jack Torrance stood up, the croquet mallet slipping from his slackened grip and clattering to the ground. A growing pool of blood spread out from the broken form that was Annie Wilkes below. He laughed humorlessly at the sight. "I suppose you'll want me to get someone to clean up this mess, won't you, Mr. Torrance?" Jack responded without turning around, something of a sheepish grin playing across his face. "Ah... well, Lloyd, you know what? I think I'd appreciate that... very much!" He lowered his gaze before turning to the gaping maw of the blizzard outside. "Take care of the place while I'm gone, won't you, Lloyd? I'll be back shortly. I just need to find my family. I want to make sure they're all okay." Expert's Opinion Jack Torrance was stronger than Annie Wilkes and had a higher killer instinct thanks to his lower mental health, but her sledgehammer and double-barreled shotgun still proved to be powerful tools in the battle. What tipped the battle in Jack's favor was the presence of the Overlook Hotel's ghosts, who could physically interfere with the fight by locking doors or leaving weaponry in Jack's possession, ensuring that he had eyes and ears no matter where in the hotel the fight took place. To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here. Reason The version of Jack Torrance used in this battle was a composite of the Book and Film. Category:Battle Subpage